


Second Chances

by cajungirlkye



Category: The Serpent King - Jeff Zentner
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajungirlkye/pseuds/cajungirlkye
Summary: Set 10 years after The Serpent King, Dill and Lydia run into each other at a party.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to the brilliant Jeff Zentner. Jeff – Thanks for letting me borrow Dill & Lydia for my own headcanon and for being so supportive and encouraging me to finish this story. You are an inspirational author who writes beautiful books and also a generally awesome guy who is a whole lot of fun to be around. I sincerely hope we’ll be able to hang out again in the near(ish) future.

Dillard Early took a sip of his drink as he looked around the room. He hated these Hollywood parties. They were always loud & full of obnoxious celebrity types.  The only reason he even came was because his manager, Theresa, had insisted. _You can take the boy out of small-town Tennessee, but you can’t take small-town Tennessee out of the boy_ , she had said when he’d protested. _You’re going to burn out if you don’t get out of the studio and have a little fun_. _Now, I’m not telling you to go out and have a wild drunken hookup since I know that’s not your style, but you need to live a little, D._

Dill sighed. He just wasn't feeling it tonight.

He turned to go look for Theresa to tell her he was headed out and immediately bumped into a fashionably-dressed blonde woman. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” he started to say, then trailed off as their eyes connected.

Suddenly it was seven years prior.

_I’m moving to Paris to go to grad school._ Lydia’s voice sounded tinny through the cell phone’s speaker.

_You applied for grad school in Paris and you didn’t tell me? I thought you were planning on staying in New York._

_I was, but that’s because I thought I had no chance to get in at The American University of Paris._

_Well, that’s great. Congratulations,_  Dill said flatly.  It wasn’t great.

_You know, you really suck at pretending to be happy for me.  Do you know how many people get to study at AUP? Not many. Fashion is what I want to do with my life, Dill – I may not ever get another chance like this._

_I’ll just miss you, that’s all._ She had no idea how much he’d miss her. Dill knew that this was really the beginning of the end. After they had hung up, he walked over to his desk, fingered the small, rectangular box that sat there, then sighed and stuffed it at the back of a drawer.

_We’ll see each other during holidays, and I promise I’ll keep in touch,_ was one of the last things Lydia had said during that phone call.

Not long after graduation, Dill was signed by his record label and moved to Los Angeles and once Lydia had arrived in Paris and had connected with some of the top designers in the world, she was always off to one Fashion Week or another with her glamorous friends.  Being on opposite sides of the world with their schedules made it difficult to actually see each other so they mostly communicated via phone calls and email, but then the phone calls and emails got fewer and far between as Dill and Lydia got busier and busier with their lives, until eventually they stopped altogether.    

Now here she was standing before him.

He sucked in a breath. “Lydia.”

“Dill.” She looked taken aback for a second. “Oh my God, how _are_ you?” She immediately set her drink down and wrapped Dill in a hug.

Dill closed his eyes and breathed her in. Under the expensive perfume she wore was a scent that Dill had never forgotten – a scent that was solely _Lydia_.  All his old feelings came rushing back – even in all those years he had never stopped loving her.  

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good, I’m doing good. How have you been?”

"Fine, just fine," Lydia replied. “Are you still living in L.A.?”

“No, I'm in Nashville now. I’m just here recording my new album.”

Lydia smiled. “I’ve heard that Dearly is making quite the name for himself.”

“I’m doing okay.”

Lydia snorted. “From what I’ve read I’d say you were doing more than okay. I heard about your upcoming headlining tour. Aren't you supposed to be playing the Opry in a few months?"

Dill blushed. "The Ryman, actually, but yeah. In October.” He cleared his throat. “So where are you these days?”

Lydia waved a hand around nonchalantly. “I’m back in New York, actually.  I got a job as the creative director of _The Cut_ magazine when I graduated from AUP.”

“That’s great,” Dill replied. “I’m happy for you.”

He could feel Lydia studying him. “Hey, you want to get out of here and find somewhere quiet to catch up?” she asked.

Dill was about to reply with ‘ _Oh dear God, yes'_ when Theresa chose that exact moment to saunter up. “Dill, honey, there you are,” she drawled, linking her arm around his, her hand wrapping around his wrist possessively.

He could see Lydia’s expression change. “Oh, well if your girlfriend needs you, we can catch up later.” She started to retreat.

_Girlfriend?_ Dill hurried to correct her assumption. “Oh, no, Lyd, this is my manager, Theresa. Theresa, this is Lydia. She and I were best friends back in Forrestville.”

“Wait a minute,” Theresa said. “You’re Lydia? The 'Lydia' song Lydia? THAT Lydia?"

"One and the same," Lydia replied.

Theresa immediately let go of Dill. "Well then in that case, don't let me interrupt you. D, I'll see you at the studio tomorrow afternoon." Theresa swept away, saying over her shoulder, "Lovely to finally meet you, Lydia!"

Dill shot a pointed look at Theresa's retreating back. “I may have mentioned you to her once or twice,” he explained. _Or a few dozen times when I've refused to play along with her publicity stunt setups_. "Anyway, to answer your earlier question, yes, I would love to get out of here and catch up with you."

Lydia grinned. "You always did hate crowds. Let's go."

They gathered their belongings, said goodbye to their host, and proceeded to walk down the street to a nearby neighborhood park. 

 As they sat down on a bench, Dill’s phone buzzed in his pocket with a text.

_I worked hard to make this happen.  Don’t sabotage your second chance at happiness with her – you deserve it. -T_

Dill narrowed his eyes at his phone.  So _that’s_ why Theresa was so insistent that he go to that party. He shook his head. As if he needed to be any more nervous than he already was. He sighed and put his phone away.

"So how are your parents?" he asked Lydia. "I was in Forrestville a few months ago but didn't get a chance to see them."

"Oh they're fine. Dad finally retired so they've actually been traveling a lot." Lydia bit her lip. “I read about your dad. That's rough.”

Dill rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess all the strychnine he ingested while he was a preacher finally caught up with him.”

“Still, stomach cancer is a hell of a way to go.” Lydia paused. “Have you heard from your mom?”

Dill shook his head. “Not since the funeral, and she barely spoke to me even then. She’s never ‘forgiven’ me for leaving Forestville." He shrugged then smiled wryly.  "I’m still pretty much a pariah in that town. You should’ve seen the looks I was getting at the funeral. I thought Mom was going to start a prayer group for my soul right there in the cemetery."

 Lydia laughed. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Dill’s chest tightened. “I’ve missed you too.” _So unbelievably much._

"What happened to us, Dill? We used to be inseparable."

Dill sighed. "Life, I guess."

Lydia sobered. “I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too.” Dill looked up at the sky. He missed being able to see the stars when he was in L.A. “There hasn’t been anyone else since you,” he said quietly.

Lydia turned and looked at him sadly. “Dill…”

He shook his head. “Just thought you should know. It’s always been you.” _It’ll only ever be you._

Lydia took his hand. “I met someone in Paris,” she said, studying his fingers. “During my last year at AUP. Lucien was studying International Law. We were together for 2 years - even got engaged. A week before the wedding I called it off.”

Dill looked up from watching Lydia absentmindedly stroking his fingers.

“Why?” he asked, hoping against hope that he knew the answer.

Lydia squeezed his hand then looked up at him. “He wasn’t you,” she said simply.

Dill’s heart soared. He pulled Lydia to him and held her close.

After a few moments, Lydia mumbled against his shirt, “Dill?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to ‘witness for Jesus’?”

Dill laughed as he pulled her lips to his.


End file.
